


Of Principle and Pettiness: an Adventure of a Lifetime

by angel_scum



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, BAMF Stiles, Captivity, Derek Is So Done, Emotionally Constipated Derek, Everyone is sassy, Fugitives, Funny, Government Conspiracy, Government Experimentation, Humor, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Modern Era, Motels, Oblivious Derek, Sassy, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles lives for the bone zone, a bit ooc but only because we never actually get to hear what's going on it derek's brain, also there is profanity but whatev, but what else is new, pseudo-crack, stiles is kind of an idiot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 10:23:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10695060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_scum/pseuds/angel_scum
Summary: Alright, so maybe Derek was an idiot for not dumping the twit after he'd used him for a meat shield, but who was he to be so cruel? It was against his principle, anyway... kinda. Also the kid, annoying as he was, could be helpful. Sometimes. Somewhat. Moderately.Or:The story where Derek escapes from a Government facility with Stiles as a hostage, and realizes he's taken on a much harder (as in, more annoying) task than is really ever reasonable.





	Of Principle and Pettiness: an Adventure of a Lifetime

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely much lighter than my other fics. enjoy.

Alright, so maybe Laura had been right.

Sure, okay, maybe Derek was dropped on his head as a child one too many times (even if it went against all werewolf logic, but  _ whatever _ ). Or well _ maybe _ he was slowly fed mild levels of wolfsbane during his early childhood in order to inhibit the growth and development of his cerebral cortex (a situation that, though highly unlikely, would nevertheless explain Derek’s current  _ predicament  _ much more effectively). Off the top of his head, though, Derek couldn't very well think of anyone so  _ devilish  _ and  _ nefariously motivated _ to dedicate to such a long term scheme. Well, actually, there was Peter -

Which, on principle Derek didn't count Peter as  _ anyone _ , let alone a ‘person’ or some other equally responsible and functioning type of creature. Rather he was more of a swamp monster, except with a lot less slime and a lot more pointy bits and insecurities that are masked by a layer of sarcasm and bitterness -

Anyway, regardless,  _ nevertheless _ , to get to the god diddly damn point _ Laura was right _ . Because shit, Derek was an  _ idiot _ .

As if on cue (and okay, maybe Derek had been muttering out loud, but who was to blame him?), a very helpful, very  _ obnoxious  _ and  _ infuriating  _ voice piped up:

“You're an absolute idiot, you know that?” And wow that was such a coincidence that he and Stiles were on the same page. Not that Derek would ever admit that Stiles was right, or anything. Because, well, he had principles. And _ due _ to said principle, Derek wasn’t going to admit that Stiles was right, so instead he turned his head to send a  _ helpful  _ growl and eye flashy at the kid only -

Oh. oh yeah. Stiles wasn’t in the front seat anymore. Actually, to be more specific, he was  _ about as far away from the front seat as a person could be _ in a shitty buick lifted from a government agency parking lot, because Stiles was being _ fucking obnoxious _ . 

And well, that just wouldn’t do; obnoxiousness just didn't jive with Derek’s principles, you see. So Derek had taken it upon himself to dump Stiles in the trunk for a while, to shut him up. 

Though apparently Stiles’ principles were at sharp odds with Derek’s, because where Derek liked to keep a calm, placid, if not a bit sage and sexy (if he did say so himself) facade through a lack of facial expression and communication beyond grunts and growls, Stiles seemed to deem  _ every moment the perfect one to run his fucking mouth.  _

 

For example, take the events of about four hours and ten minutes ago:

 

“And who taught you to drive, anyway? I’m pretty sure you start a car by turning the  _ key _ , not  _ braining innocent captives  _ all over the dash.”

Derek, of course, rose right to Stiles bait and gave another low,  _ meaningful _ growl - this time punctuated with a head to the window on Stiles’ part. 

“Ow! Owowow Jesus  _ Christ _ man, lay off the manly handling, not that I don’t mind getting a piece of your manly handles on me but -”

Derek paused (again meaningfully), cutting Stiles’ rant off, in order to turn to him and let out a well punctuated, if not  _ overkill _ -level growl. 

He flashed his irises, too, for good measure. 

Stiles, it seemed, was relatively cowed. Well, he was twitching like a bear with a badger up it's ass, but as far as Derek could tell that was a rather  _ normal _ state for Stiles to be in. 

Unfortunate, really, for all parties involved. Even if in this case Stiles was the bear  _ and  _ the badger.Which meant - 

_ Nope. _ Derek shook his head rather vigorously, very much  _ not  _ wanting the mental image. _ Very much _ . Unfortunately much. So much that he didn't particularly dare to even  _ look _ at Stiles for the next half hour, much to Stiles’ continual and rather _ twitchy  _ annoyance. Which was in and of itself pretty damn  _ annoying _ . Yeah. Stiles from experiment block 6 can be described as one thing and one thing only:  _ fucking annoying. _

“Yoo-hoo, earth to fur-brains, oh - oh man your eyebrows are -” Stiles aborted the comment (a rather wise decision for a rather  _ idiotic _ kid, if you asked Derek. Not that Derek would say that, considering he preferred his sentences like he preferred his men, short, slim and full _ of power) _ and instead said, “what's crawled up your ass and died?” 

Luckily, the steering wheel was rather were-proof and therefore withstood a good old  _ clawing  _ as Derek tried to reign in his irritation at the twinky ass kid sitting next to him. Who was still talking. Jesus Christ, what type of meth is this kid on  _ jesus-  _

“- and I mean I totally get your need to do the  _ nail thing  _ but man that steering wheel doesn't really deserve such a callous death, does it? Or do you -” 

“Shut. Up.” Derek gritted out,  _ feeling _ rather than  _ seeing _ Stiles’ Stupidometer going wild as the kid  _ opened his mouth to keep talking. _

 

It had taken a whopping ten minutes for Derek to shred his steering wheel (poor soul), part of his seat and his favorite pair of sunglasses (which, actually, were his only pair because he had found them about an hour ago in the back seat of the stolen car). It took another two for him to pull over to the closest deserted stretch of back country road and _ shove Stiles in the trunk _ . 

It wasn't like Stiles had really asked for this, per say. Okay, maybe poking the big ol' pissy, hairy, toned, _mouthwateringly_ _toned_ if we were being honest, _bear_ of a man wasn't the best idea but alright who throws people into trunks, anyway?! Fuckin' animals, that's who. Derek, to be more specific. And dear god, wasn't he just an _animal._ He could go beast mode on Stiles any day of th-

A rather loud and rude and uncalled for (if you asked Stiles) banging reverberated through the hull of the car. A moment later, and Derek’s gruff voice was filtering into the trunk. 

"I can hear you thinking. Stop it. You're making the car reek."

Stiles openly gaped (though really it didn't matter if he was openly gaping or not, considering that he was in a  _ trunk  _ and no one could, openly or not,  _ see _ said open gape. But whatever, Stiles chose this path, now he's gunna see it through. So open gape it is).

"That is so rude! First you lock me in the trunk, then you tell me to stop thinking which let me tell you that you  _ wish _ you could think like I think, because my thinking is something to think about right there -"

Faintly, Stiles kinda felt the sentence getting away from him, but it was a rather insignificant fact all things considered. After all, who could  _ really _ blame him? He hadn't had any adderall in like, a week. Okay five hours but still it felt like a week, and alright so maybe Derek was the type of sourpuss to  _ blame _ Stiles (which, um, rude), but still, who gave him the right to be so -

The car came to a rather sudden, rather _ uncomfortable _ and  _ distressing _ stop, which had Stiles' skull making a quick and  _ intimate _ introduction with the outer wall of the trunk, which in turn had Stiles swearing himself blue (some of the words actually making Derek blush a bit, though he would never admit such a thing either way.)

"What in the hell did you do that for?! I thought you needed me alive, man! Are you  _ trying  _ to brain me? Mush up my insides so you can stick a straw  in my-"

"Oh my god." Derek swallowed, letting his head fall to (sharply) bounce off the steering wheel. 

He needed a moment before he could open that trunk again. Not with that (very stiles-shaped and stilesish and  _ fucking obnoxious _ )  _ thing _ in there still. 

"If only it had given him a proper concussion..." Derek muttered, trying to remember the best way to make a human  _ pass the fuck out.  _

Finally, after ten minutes of deliberation while Derek got out of the car to go pillage a gas station for food, the werewolf decided on his plan of action. It was a simple plan, made by a simple man with a simple vision (read: Derek). It was simple and beautiful and it would solve all his human (read: Stiles)-related problems. Really, it was so beautifully simple that it consisted of exactly three steps. 

 

Step 1:

Get food. The more the better. 

Step 2: 

Take food to car. 

Step 3: Dump food in trunk, leaving human to eat food and therefore shut up.

 

Derek was rather proud of his three step plan, and promptly executed it to the T. Except okay maybe he was a bit frightened by Stiles suddenly shooting up and going “ _ I need to piss, you soggy mammoth of a tit, let me go! _ ” and promptly dashing into the gas station. And okay, maybe he was a little too stunned, standing next to the empty car mouthing “soggy mammoth of a tit” to himself in hopes of understanding what had just happened, to go after Stiles. 

And then it clicked that Stiles was probably calling to Police _ right now -  _

But Derek tilted his head, and only heard the younger man humming happy birthday while running water and then he was coming out at walking towards Derek as though he wasn't actually particularly afraid of werewolves which is just _ fucking stupid  _ on his part -

“How you doing sunshine? Or should I say moonshine, get it, cus you're a werewolf, relatively illegal and I would drink you up any da-”

“Stop talking,” Derek managed to grit out, giving Stiles a look that meant that he was going back in the trunk (or maybe tied to the car roof) if he didn’t  _ shut up. _

Which his look must have been terrifying enough that Stiles was actually moderately intimidated. Because instead of pressing to be in the front seat again, or at least the back, Stiles instead began to climb into the trunk, muttering:

“Oh totally, totally. I'm totally done talking, not another word from me, my lips are seal-”

“ _ Stiles!”  _ And that had Stiles’ jaw clamping shut, the kid going as far as miming a key turning in a lock on his mouth as he sunk down into the trunk. 

Derek, always the saint, managed to not just start the car and drive them both off a hopefully nearby and convenient  _ cliff.  _

….needless to say, it was going to be a long drive. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how the update schedule will be yet!


End file.
